


Five Things That Never Happened in the Basement

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-04
Updated: 2005-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So says the title, five things that never happend in the basement.  For the Lilah/Wesley ficathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things That Never Happened in the Basement

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

1.

The basement should bear a sign telling of lost causes. All ye who enter here abandon hope, it should read. 

Whenever Wesley climbs down these stairs, it’s always for a bad reason. Now is no different. He clunks down the wooden stairs, carefully balancing his burden and cursing as his jacket catches on the rough banister and tears. He stumbles, nearly dropping Lilah, ripping the plastic away from her face. 

Wesley is all too painfully aware of the fact that he is the only one breathing in the room. He gently lies Lilah down on the lone table in the room, beside the constant reminder of his misfortune: Angelus’ open cage. He sits down next to her, and gingerly pulls away the rest of the plastic.

Lilah’s eyes are still closed in a mockery of sleep, her lips slightly open in a kiss and her once shiny hair is dull and limp, messily covering her pale, blood-drained face. But in spite of all this, she has a sense about her that seems like she went out fighting, and Wesley is glad for that. 

He jumps abruptly, startled by a sound – probably rats – but it sounds like a whisper.

“Lilah?” he calls out. In his world, it’s always possible the dearly departed will come back for a visit. 

The rats – he thinks it’s rats – scurry about some more. 

“Damn you Lilah, for dying!” She’s dead now, and Wesley finds it easier to say the things he’d always wanted to say to her. Talking to oneself usually is the first sign of madness, but he knows that the world’s gone mad, and one lone man gabbing to in a basement really won’t contribute much. 

“Damn you. After all that hard work saving you, you just couldn’t stay away… We could have used the help… I could have used it…” he mumbles. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you again. Please don’t hold it against me forever.”

He falls heavily into a chair and hides his face in his hands. 

“Forgive me,” he breathes as the tears start to drip down his cheeks

An errant gust of wind from the sewers passes through the room and ruffles his hair. The rats make a muffled thump. He feels something cool abruptly touch him on the neck, and a indiscernible whisper that somehow sounds like an “it’s okay.” Suddenly, for no reason at all, he feels a peace of mind that is ill fitted for the occasion. 

He stands up again, renewed, and reaches out for the axe. And before he lets it fall once and for all, he admits that he loved her.

2.

He lugs Lilah down the stairs, half-carrying – half dragging her corpse. She seems heavier dead than she was alive, or maybe it’s just that he’s exhausted after chasing Angelus around the city. 

So Lilah had finally managed to get herself killed. It was bound to happen sometime. Wesley had only risked his life to get her out of Wolfram and Hart and told her to run for it, but no, she was too arrogant to listen, too confident in herself to obey common sense.

But the truth is that Wesley doesn’t really care. He’s past his quota of caring and even if there was a little left, he wouldn’t waste it on her. 

So now she lies stone cold on the floor with dried blood on her lips and neck and he kisses those lips, tastes the sharpness on his tongue, caresses the soft torn neck. He plays with the buttons on her ruined shirt, examines the clasp of her pants, reaches down – she’s just spare parts now…

There are some things he will never tell the living.

3\. 

The universe must be ironic, Wesley thinks as he gazes upon the body, for Linwood Morrow had his head severed from his body by Lilah Morgan, who will be losing her own shortly.

Wesley deeply regrets having to decapitate her. He knows that if Angelus had tried to turn her, his actions have ensured that she will not rise again. He wishes he weren’t so logical and thorough. He wishes she would rise. He wishes to see her again. 

He wishes that he’d known all of this before it was too late...

Right before he raises the axe, he hears Lilah behind him, and it’s like she’s alive again. It’s the same voice and slightly condescending attitude, the verbal jabs and jibs and the ever-perfect outfit. She walks, she talks, she strokes his tousled hair and whispers in his ear – and he can’t bring himself to do it. He drops the axe, and heads for the staircase.

He wonders if she’ll rise by the next day.

 

4\. 

A muffled shriek is the first sign he has that something else is wrong. Wesley gets up from the chair he’d been mourning in, and heads for the door, which opens before he arrives.

Angelus bounds down the stairs, grinning like the devil he is.

“Come to finish you off like I did to her,” he says, gesturing towards Lilah. 

Wesley shrugs apathetically and drops back into his chair.

“Oh, it’s you again,” he says lightly, rearranging the plastic around Lilah.

“What, no scream of terror, no begging, no praying to the Powers That Be that seem to have forgotten you?” taunts Angelus. If Angelus is looking to get a rise out of Wesley, Wesley won’t oblige. At this point, he doesn’t really care anymore. Angelus had probably just killed everyone upstairs, the city didn’t seem salvageable and his life wasn’t going to get any better. 

Wesley tilts his neck and lies back in the chair.

“Well, go ahead. If I’m going to end up in Hell, at least I’ll have company.” He reaches out and grips Lilah’s cold hand. 

“Damn it, you’re just too easy,” says Angelus, stepping closer and scrutinizing Wesley’s face, then reaching out and gently stroking his cheek before brutally ripping off Wesley’s ear.

“But I can make sure you won’t die easily.”

 

5\. 

He wishes Angelus wasn’t such a big blabbermouth. 

Lilah’s dead now, and if Angelus hadn’t said anything, it would have been the perfect time for Wesley to get together with Fred. Admittedly, it’s in the middle of a crisis, but if not now then when? She and Gunn are fighting, and she had expressed her interest… before she found out about his affair with Lilah.

Even in death, Lilah messes with his life. It is so like her to continue to torment and afflict him. He hopes that now that she’s dead, he’ll find some peace and maybe some second chances.

He glances at Lilah’s remains. He’ll have to find the time and a place to bury her; it wouldn’t do to have a rotting corpse in the basement. Lilah would probably be appalled at his treatment of her body and her subsequent decapitation. 

But enough of Lilah, he’s free of her now. He can fully devote his attention to Fred. He tries to imagine Fred, her long brown hair draped across her shoulders as she giggles and radiates light and love… but all he can think of is Lilah slipping off her shirt, unzipping her skirt, making every little movement unbearably sexy. 

Her corpse seems to mock him. 

Lilah mocked him just by existing. It was one of the things she was made for, along with sex and manipulation. He would kiss her and kiss her, longer and deeper, and he’d feel her eyes staring through his skull, smoldering with a tinge of amusement. Harder, faster, deeper – he still felt it. Rough her up, bruise her, make her flesh red – she mocked him. 

And he loved every second of it. Loved being punished, loved being able to punish her back. All rough edges and no gentle curves - After Lilah, he’s not sure Fred will be good enough. But Lilah was an excellent teacher for him. Maybe he can try to impart some bits of wisdom to Fred, make her into a woman… 

He feels Lilah staring at the back of his head. 

“You’re dead,” he states. “It’s over now.”

Lilah’s corpse doesn’t respond. 

…or maybe not.


End file.
